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Meet the 99ers: “Even McDonald’s Won’t Hire Me”

4 Mar

Last but not least is Louis99ers-hdre’s story, the first 99er I interviewed. When I look back now, I think of Louise’s struggle as a mom and how terrified I would be not to be able to take care of my child. I hope I’m never there, but if there’s one thing I have learned about interviewing people who have hit rock bottom is that it can happen to anyone. I’m most anxious to catch up with Louise and hear how she is doing. Check back for updates on the 99ers, and read the rest of my series on people who maxed out their unemployment after the Great Recession with Yvonne, Ricky, Susan and Doug.

007-250x187-1When I first heard that unemployment benefits can last up to 99 weeks, I have to admit that I was a little skeptical.

I thought, that’s almost two years of checks. Someone can’t find a job after looking for two years?

Then I heard Louise’s story.

Louise Davies of Boston, Massachusetts had worked in retail for 18 years when she was laid off from Macy’s in 2008. Desperately looking for a job, she just exhausted her 99th week of unemployment.

When a person’s laid off, she normally gets about 26 weeks of unemployment from her state. But in this Great Recession, Congress has authorized additional federal tiers, which add up to 99 total weeks of unemployment benefits. Once a person gets to the fourth tier and is done with her 99 weeks, her benefits are done, no matter her job situation.

That’s where Louise is today. Ninety-nine weeks and no job in sight. She’s not alone — though there aren’t hard numbers yet, an estimated one million people could become “99ers” by the end of 2010. There are between five and six job seekers for every opening, and it is now taking people longer than ever before to find employment; the average unemployed person is out of work for a record 31.2 weeks. A quarter of the unemployed — equivalent to the population of Connecticut — have already been out of a job for more than a year.

At 40, Louise is a wife and a mom, and she’s been working since she could get her workers permit at 16.

“I used to ride my bike to my local McDonald’s for a 7 a.m. shift,” she said.  “Now even they won’t hire me because I’m over-experienced.”

Job hunting is what consumes her, every day.

“I look for jobs on every available board, paper or every person I have networked with several times a day,” Louise said. “This past week, I received my first response in two months: ‘I am sorry but we believe that we have found candidates that are better suited for this position than you.'”

Her benefits have been barely keeping the family afloat since she was laid off. Her husband works for FedEx and was working on his master’s degree before this happened. Their finances are a wreck.

“We’ve had to sell our car, burn through both of our 401(k)s and charge up all our credit cards just to stay afloat,” she says. “We’re a month behind on our rent. I jump every time the doorbell or telephone ring because I know that it is someone looking for money from us, and we don’t have any.”

She says she’s looked in every field — retail, office work, human resources, customer service and anything else she can apply for. She’s even applied to wait tables, but they objected that her last waitressing job was 20 years ago.

The family’s precarious financial situation hasn’t just taken a toll on their finances. It’s taken over Louise’s life.

“I bite my nails. My hair is starting to fall out,” she said. “I have very little dignity left.  I can barely look at my husband, I feel so ashamed.”

Food stamps help, she says. She’s applied for Section 8 housing, started taking the bus, and, when she’s not looking for a job, spends time playing outside with her daughter.

She says that she never thought something like this could happen to two people who have worked hard all their lives.

“I never dreamed of this world that I am living in,” she said. “I hate for my daughter to see me like this, and I hope that this will be a brief period in her life that she doesn’t remember as she grows older.”

Louise created the Facebook group, “Tier V to Survive,” to rally support around Congress extending unemployment by another tier. She says she calls her Senators and representatives and faxes them daily. She says there are millions like her who have been so hurt by this recession that they won’t be able to survive without further help.

“I feel that they are so very out of touch with us,” she said.  “If they had just one relative who was going through this they would understand that we are hanging on by a fingernail.”

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Meet the 99ers: “I’m Scared”

3 Mar

99ers-hdrSusan Madrak’s 99 weeks are up.

“I’m done. My last check was three weeks ago,” she says about her unemployment benefits. She’s got two months worth of savings in the bank, but after that, she says she’s not sure what will happen.

“I’m scared,” she said. “I have a couple of job leads I’m pursuing, but who knows? I don’t really know what to do if none of this comes through.”

Susan, who’s 55 and lives in Philadelphia, has been pounding the pavement since 2008 when she was laid off from her sales job at a consulting business.

headshot“I’ve looked everywhere,” Susan said. “I have probably sent out 400 resumes in the last year and a half, two years. I’ve gotten one interview. One interview.

Although these last two years have been incredibly difficult, her saving grace has been her political blog — Suburban Guerilla — where she writes about the country, the economy and her own struggle to find work. Her readers have even pitched in when she’s been in dire straits, paying $700 a month COBRA health insurance coverage for the first 18 months of her unemployment and chipping in for car repairs.

Some conservatives cling tight to the ludicrous notion that people on unemployment are enjoying themselves and refusing to look for work. One U.S. representative recently lamented that extending unemployment benefits is “creating hobos.” Not so, says Susan.

She says it’s been nearly impossible to find a job, and anything out there offers so little security that it’s difficult to take a chance on it. If she takes a new job, but gets laid off before working there long enough to qualify for unemployment, it means she’s out of luck.

“You have to make an educated guess,” said Susan. “When you know the economy is falling down, you’re not really interested in playing dice.”

What angers her the most is the ambivalence of politicians in her own Democratic party.

“I am devastated by the fact that the party I have supported all my life is so utterly indifferent to the suffering of ordinary men and women,” said Susan. “For the first time in my life, I don’t even feel like voting.”

While Congress has passed extensions for the current tiers of unemployment, almost no one is talking about adding another tier for people like herself who have exhausted all benefits.

“They had plenty of money to prop up Wall Street. They don’t have enough money to help people who are struggling,” she says.

With no help on the horizon, Susan wonders what the next few months have in store.

“I’m sitting here wondering how I’m going to pay my bills if this money runs out,” she said. “I just don’t know.”

This post was part of my 2010 series on the 99ers  – people who were still looking for a job once their 99 weeks of unemployment were up. I’m going to be following up with these folks to find out where they are now, but you can read the previous stories here, here and here.

Meet the 99ers: “The American Dream Is a Living Nightmare”

2 Mar

99ers-hdrHere’s another from my 2010 series “Meet the 99ers.” As you probably remember, after the Great Recession, Congress approved extra emergency unemployment benefits for people who were out of work, extending unemployment for 99 weeks. But there were still plenty of people looking for a job, even after that term ended, and I interviewed a handful of them. Today is Doug Deaton’s story. Doug hails from my home state of Michigan, which is no longer the state with the highest unemployment, but still is sixth from the top with a rate of 8.9 percent.

 

It should be no surprise that one of our 99ers hails from Michigan. With the highest unemployment rate in the nation, the mitten state has been hard-hit by the economic downturn, compounding years of loss in the automotive industry.

Doug Deaton knows exactly how hard it is to find a job in Michigan.

At 62, many people might happily take Social Security and retire, rather than continue looking for a job.

But not Doug. He wants to work. He needs to work.

Doug moved back to Michigan from Seattle several years ago after identity theft ruined his finances. He moved back in with his elderly mother in Battle Creek, where he had grown up.

“Instead of being able to help her, I needed her help. It should have been the other way around,” he says.  “I should have been able to do more for her.”

He got a job with a temp-to-hire firm and began working at a nearby university, with the promise of being hired full time. But when a new director chose to hire a personal friend instead, this former consultant/conference coordinator/sales manager was again out of work and out of money.

Since then, he’s looked for work daily and survived on unemployment benefits, which he’s now exhausted.

“I have emailed and mailed thousands [of resumes] in the last three years. About once every three or four months, I might get some type of response,” he says. “Most of the time, nothing.”

One of the problems, he says, is age discrimination. Although he has a lot of job experience, skills and is in good health, most companies are not interested in hiring an older person. When he applied at Starbucks, he says the manager didn’t want to hire him, even though he had experience as a barista.

“I already knew the job, but he literally told me I was too old and that I couldn’t keep up,” Doug said.

Doug says he ended up doing so well on the test that the manager had no choice but to hire him. Even that position disappeared, though, when he wasn’t given enough hours to stay on.

His mother recently passed away after a long illness, and since then, Doug has been struggling to get by.

“I am blessed to have a landlord who is a prince. I owe him an incredible amount of back rent,” he says. “He knows what I have been through, and he knows I have nowhere else to go if I were evicted.”

He says he’s resisted getting government help as long as possible, but he’s had to use food stamps and Medicare. He applied to get early Social Security, just to pay his rent.

But this isn’t the America he’s believed in — one where there’s an honest day’s work for anyone who’s willing.

“The majority of our elected officials have forgotten why they were sent to D.C. in the first place, and that is to do the will of the people, and take care of the American dream,” he says. “For me, it has become a living nightmare.”

Missed the other posts in this series? Read Yvonne’s story and Ricky’s too.

Meet the 99ers: “We May Never Be Gainfully Employed Again”

1 Mar

99ers-hdrYesterday, I posted the first of a five-post series that I did back in 2010 on the “99ers” – people who maxed out their 99 weeks of unemployment after the Great Recession. Despite the fact that these stories are three years old, I was surprised by how relevant they are today and how little has changed for workers in our economy. Los Angeles’ unemployment rate is still a dismal 11.3 percent.

n578893139_71574_4839Here’s Yvonne’s story:

Just a few months back, Yvonne Shine was nearly evicted from her “rinky-dink” apartment in downtown Los Angeles because she couldn’t pay her rent.

“I think I’m going to be back in the same position again by the first of next month,” she said. “I don’t have any money coming in.”

The fact that she’s been unemployed for over two years is still shocking to Yvonne. She started working at 15 years old and has decades of experience in administration, including work at a movie studio, a major university, a biomedical engineering company and more. But since she was laid off from her job as an executive assistant at a local union in 2007, she can count the number of temp jobs she’s gotten on one hand.

She spends her days reading the Bible and learning the latest software to keep her resume current. Right now, she’s mastering Windows 7 and the latest Microsoft Office.

“It never occurred to me that at my age now I would have no benefits, no pension, and be totally unemployed and virtually unable to reenter the workforce,” she said. “There is a very good chance that a lot of us in our 40s and 50s will never be gainfully employed again.”

The unemployment rate in Los Angeles is over 12 percent, and higher in the black and Hispanic communities. Yvonne says the few places that are hiring where she lives don’t even pay enough to make ends meet.

“What jobs there are out there, they don’t pay a living wage. There’s no place in this country where you can live off of $10 an hour, not even if you’re single and certainly not if you have a family,” she said.

Yvonne’s list of unpaid bills keeps rising, and the resources she has left to search for a job are waning.

“I have a $1,000 power bill. It’s by the grace of God that they transferred the service since I moved,” she said. “My phone bill is due today — I’m going to be getting a call soon saying that if I don’t pay, my service will be disconnected. I don’t own a car anymore. I don’t even have money to buy a bus pass.”

Her family and friends have helped out by paying her phone bill or her rent when they can, but they’re struggling too.

“There is only so much they can do. They can’t do it every month,” she said.

Yvonne, who was born in Alabama and grew up during the Civil Rights movement there, says she can’t fathom not exercising her right to vote, and yet she feels that there’s no one left to vote for that will respond to her pleas for help. Our elected officials, she says, seem more interested in their own job security than the suffering of the unemployed.

“It’s not representation of the people, by the people and for the people unless they’re the people,” she says.

Yvonne says she’s not worried about the future, but only because of her strong faith. Whether she finds a job or ends up in a homeless shelter next month, she says she knows she will be alright.

“It’s all in the hands of God. I fall asleep praying to God and thanking him for delivering me. He’s the only hope I’ve had, and he’s not failed me yet,” she said.

Meet the 99ers: “We Played By the Rules, and Now We’ve Lost Everything”

28 Feb

99ers-hdrI wrote this series on the 99ers – folks who have maxed out their 99 weeks of unemployment but hadn’t found a job – back in 2010 for Change.org. The pieces may be a few years old, but I was surprised how incredibly relevant they still were as I read through them. According to the February jobs report, 38 percent of the unemployed in the U.S. are considered “long-term unemployed,” meaning they’ve been out of work for 27 weeks or more. Why 27 weeks? Because these days, the extra emergency benefits that Congress approved during the recession have lapsed, and people only get 26 weeks of unemployment compensation from their state.

I need to follow up with these folks and see how they are doing now. I’ll put that on my never-ending to-do list.

Anyway, meet Ricky, a father and an electrician. His story about selling his tools to pay for his son’s medication broke my heart. Take a look, and check back for the other four posts later this week:

 

If it weren’t for his son, says Ricky Macoy, he doesn’t know if he would have survived these last two years of unemployment.

“I suffer from depression,” he says. “There are times when my situation makes me feel so hopeless I can barely get out of bed. There have been times, like about a month ago, where I was almost suicidal. If it hadn’t been for my son, I don’t know … ”

Ricky, who’s 52, has worked as an electrician for 30 years, but was laid off from his job working on ocean-going vessels in Louisiana in November of 2008 and hasn’t worked since. He and his 11-year-old son, John, have been barely scraping by during that time. He’s spent all the money he had saved in John’s college fund, and still, they may be evicted from their Texas home next week.

“I’m worried to death that if I get to be homeless that my son’s going to be take away from me and put in foster care,” Ricky says.

He says his son has been putting on a brave face, but Ricky knows it’s been hard on him too.

“He worries. He just kind of keeps things bottled up inside,” he says. “I haven’t said anything to him about the foster care. He’s very brave. He knows right now things are hard.”

Not being able to provide for his son has been the worst part of his unemployment, Ricky says. He says so many men like him have provided for their families for years, a role they’ve cherished.

“It makes you feel good when you bring home the check and you know everything is going to be alright,” he says. “When there’s nothing coming in, you feel like a failure. When I look my kid in the eye to tell him I don’t have money for a field trip for school — $12 for a field trip for school. I didn’t have it.”

But the worst day was when he had to scrounge up $5 for John’s asthma medicine. He went to the clinic and asked for samples, but no one had any. He had to sell some of his tools he used to use for work — a tool worth more than $150 sold for $10 — to get money for medicine.

Ricky says it’s maddening to know you’ve done nothing to deserve this suffering, and yet, there’s nothing you can do to escape it. He says millions like him are suffering, and no one seems to notice.

“I worked hard, played by the rules and I done lost everything I worked my whole life for,” he says. “We’re the people who helped build this economy. We’re the ones who got up every day, put our boots on and went to work. We played by the rules, and now we’ve lost everything.”

Ricky got about 60 weeks of unemployment, but his last check came February 7th. Texas didn’t qualify for Tier IV benefits because its state unemployment rate wasn’t high enough. Ricky starts his day every morning looking for jobs anywhere he can find one.

He had just gotten back from a job interview when I spoke to him yesterday morning.  Ricky was hopeful about it, but the employer still had 18 more men to interview for the position.

He says in times like these, he and his son have had to rely on prayer when they haven’t had anything else to get them through.

A few months back, when they didn’t have the money to pay the rent and were going to be evicted, he and his son got on their knees and prayed for a solution. The next day, Ricky’s brother came up with the money to pay their rent.

“My son said to me, ‘Dad, prayer really works, doesn’t it?'” Ricky says. “I said, ‘Yes, it does, son.'”

Hope seems dim for Ricky right now. He asked me if I would say a prayer for him.

I said I would.

Update 4/30/2010: Ricky called me this morning to thank me for my prayers. He got the job. He says it’s like 1,000 pounds being lifted from his shoulders. We’re so happy for him and wish him and his son the very best.

Fall in love with Pluck: our love letter series

27 Feb

This month on Pluck, my column with Chicago writer and my personal BFF Liz Joynt Sandberg, we’ve been writing a series of love letters to the things that make our mama-lives a little bit sweeter.

So far, we’ve featured a pretty good list of stuff: pizza, wine, TV, breast milk. Not kidding on that last one – my latest post was a love letter to breastfeeding! Liz also posted a beautiful essay that she wrote to the mothers at our local church, which she’ll be performing as part of Chicago’s 2013 Listen to Your Mother – the nationwide essay-reading event designed to “give mother’s day a microphone.”

Here’s a compendium of our love letters so far:

Hummingbird – a love letter to the mothers at Berry UMC

Dear delicious pizza: a love letter to Homemade Pizza Company

Dear wine, TV, and my kitchen timer: a cry-it-out love letter

Dear boobies: A love letter to breastfeeding

The Homemade pizza post actually got me an email from the CEO of the company! He wants to buy pizza for all of us over at Rebellious. Yum!

Why do we give things up for Lent?

25 Feb

I wrote this post for Huffington Post’s religion section a couple of weeks ago when Lent started.

Now that we’re a bit into the the season of simplicity, I should reflect on how I’m doing on my giving up. Have I stopped bad-mouthing myself? Well, not entirely. It’s a hard habit to break. But my vow of self-positivity has given me pause a few times when I went to blame myself for something going wrong. It’s a good reminder that words do mean something, both in my own mind and in how I think about others.

I’ve also noticed how often I apologize for something that is not my, nor anyone’s, fault. How often I apologize for needing to be with Teddy or needing to focus on my work or being sick, etc. It doesn’t strictly fall under saying negative things about one’s self – it just implies it.

Anyway, here’s the post. Enjoy!

 

I went to mass and catechism every week from the time I was five till I went to college at 17. But despite all that quality time with the Catholic church, I seemed to have missed some important information.

Near the top of the list: Why do we give up things for Lent?

I think I was told it had something to do with sacrifice. Most of the time, people gave up their favorite food. After all, Jesus gave up his life for us, so the least we could do is stop eating Mars bars. Or maybe it symbolized the 40 days he spent wandering in the desert before his ministry began? Jesus fought the devil’s lies, and we fight off our craving for pizza.

I gave up being Catholic a long time ago. I still go to church, but it’s a pretty modern urban United Methodist church that welcomes LGBT folks and doesn’t give me lectures on birth control.

Still, the ritual of Lent has stayed with me. I’m drawn to its pared-down simplicity — the starkness of an undecorated church, the tolling bells that rang as we left mass in place of joyful hymns, the symbols of ashes and incense. It’s meaningful to me. Like the grey skies and bare trees of the end of winter, I feel the call to turn inward and reflect about what in my life needs pruning.

At one point in my life, I gave up giving things up for Lent. It was stupid, I thought, and superficial. Yes, I too love and crave chocolate, but at the end of 40 days, I will just eat up my share anyways in the form of a large hollow bunny. What’s the point?

Then a couple of years ago, I had an idea. I gave up buying things for Lent. I still let myself by food and necessities — medicine, toilet paper, etc. But I stopped buying little things for myself — a new lipgloss, a caramel latte, a sweater on the clearance rack.

It was a small thing, but it was hard. Sale at my favorite store? Don’t even bother going in. Need the right pair of shoes to go with that dress? See if you can borrow some from a friend. Drink a nice cup of coffee that you make yourself at home and curl up with a good book — one you already own or borrowed from the library.

I found myself being creative. Stretching how long I could enjoy something I already had. Finding substitutes for the momentary zing that comes from purchasing something new. Appreciating my many blessings.

At the end of 40 days, I could buy things again. But I didn’t. It changed the way I thought about my money and my resources. It changed the way I thought about what brings me joy and happiness. It caused me to question why I felt I needed to buy things and what that said about the state of my soul.

It wore off eventually. In fact, when I look at my bank statement, I could probably use to go back and do it again. But the lessons that I learned are still with me. It was a really meaningful 40 days.

I was thinking about that experience tonight as I pondered the beginning of Lent. What would I give up? The thought came to me instantly — saying negative things about myself.

I have a habit of putting myself down when anything happens. If I make a mistake, it’s because I’m an idiot. If I forgot something, I’m dumb. I spend a good percentage of my days apologizing for anything and everything and adding in how I’m deficient.

It’s just a little thing, but I do think it matters. Words affect us. When I put myself down, what am I saying to others about their mistakes? What am I internalizing about myself? And what about my son? He’s just learning to communicate himself, so what does it say to him when mama is always calling herself names?

I may not be Catholic anymore, but I am going to go back to my roots this year and give up something for Lent. It’s not really a sacrifice, but it will be hard.

At the end of it, I believe it will have changed me. But how? I’m not sure. I’ve got to give it up to find out.